


Five Times Bilbo Awkwardly Avoided Explaining Why He Rejected an Offer of Courtship

by IrishSkumring



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: All Relationships Unrequited/One Sided, Aromantic Asexual Character, Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarves find Bilbo adorable, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Hobbit Culture & Customs, Light Angst, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Dwarves, Nonbinary Fíli, One-Sided Attraction, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-23 21:04:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16626431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrishSkumring/pseuds/IrishSkumring
Summary: ...and one time the person understood the concept of "no romantic feelings"orBilbo is aroace, doesn't quite realize it, gets confused by his own feelings and accidentally breaks some hearts along the way (but it all ends well, I promise).





	1. The First: Chamomile Brockhouse

**Author's Note:**

> I've always, before the Hobbit movies came out, read Bilbo as aroace. I've also only just recently realised this, which is a little bizarre. 
> 
> This whole thing was inspired by a quote from Johnald Ronald Reunald Tolkien himself, but for the life of me I cannot find it again! It was something to do with Bilbo enjoying being alone? urgh it's like having half a song stuck in your head but you can't google it because it's mostly the instrumental part.
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading! All the chapters are planned out, just not written yet. Don't think I'll have a regular posting schedule, but I'm aiming for at least once a week!
> 
>  
> 
> _A small note on my writing of Hobbit and Dwarf cultures: both have a similar understanding of genders, in that all sorts of folks have all sorts of combinations of parts and pronouns and such. I've many headcanons on this, including who takes whose surname, but I'll restrain myself from writing them all out here haha_

The first time it happens, Bilbo actually accepts. Initially. It is the Spring Festival, after all, a time of courtship and giggling tweens sneaking off together, Chamomile is sweet and Bilbo is 33 and his parents could not be happier for him.

“She may be no Took or Brandybuck,” his mother says when she sees him with a red face and a bouquet of white camellias, white violets, and forsythias, “but the Brockhouses are decent Hobbits, out there in Bree. She’ll understand the wildness you’ve inherited from me, Bilbo dear.”

Bungo nods in agreement, and intones something about Chamomile’s mothers and how they are a proper and fine couple, even living among Big Folks. “What will you give her in return, Bilbo? It’s a bit early for ambrosia, I’d say, but she might like some nice pink lilacs, and wood sorrels are customary of course.”

Bilbo nods, grateful for the advice – he has never been given flowers with intent before, and finds himself a bit lost. He hesitates at the flower stall, before deciding to throw in apricot blossoms. It would not do to have her hope for a boisterous courtship, after all. Bilbo can be loud and rambunctious in many things, even now as a grown Hobbit; he has always been well known for leading his band of cousins on a hunt for elves, or trolls, or even just pestering Gandalf (much to the wizard’s simultaneous consternation and amusement), and now that he is older the fauntlings all come to him for fantastical stories. But he has never been good affection, with anyone besides his parents – and even then it is only because they are his parents. They know him well, and know what lies under his taciturn nature.

As he gives Chamomile Brockhouse his answer, he is a little worried she will not interpret the apricot blossoms correctly. That she will think he is trying to play cute, the timid Hobbit who is in fact up to no good. She grins widely when she sees the flowers, kisses his cheek and dances with him until he forgets his worry altogether. Chamomile _is_ sweet, and surprisingly willing to listen to him ramble about his mother’s adventures, his books on elves, the water spirit he and his cousins swear they saw in the Brandywine River.

They are lying on the grass a little away from the festivities, stargazing and talking. She tells him of Bree, of the curious Big Folks, of trying to gain an apprenticeship with a cabinetmaker.

“I suppose your parents might not like that,” she says, braiding some long stems of grass. “A working spouse, I mean. You Bagginses are gentlehobbits, after all, and you on top of the hill and all.”

“Oh, I don’t know. My mother is a Took by birth, you know, and I should think Dad would like me having an independent spouse. He married Mum, after all.” He smiles at her, and she giggles and holds his hand in the grass, and Bilbo can easily imagine a future with her and does not know what he was worried about.

 

Some weeks later, reading a perfectly charming letter from Chamomile, he abruptly remembers those worries.

“That’s a fierce frown you have there, duckling,” Bungo says in between elevensies bites, “Bad news from miss Brockhouse?”

Bilbo immediately smooths out his face, and smiles at his father. “No, no, not at all.” There truly was not. Chamomile wrote in length about the colour of his hair, and how she missed his smile, and how she would kiss him properly the next time they met. It is all very flattering, verging on scandalous, and Bilbo could not shake that foreboding feeling. “She mentioned a sickly kitten in the last letter and I was only wondering how it fared, as she hasn’t written about it this time. Suppose I’ll ask though. Mum, do you mind me taking tea in my room while I write?”

“Go ahead, darling,” Belladonna answers, but gives him a perceptive look as he pours his tea. He shakes his head minutely. He is sure it’s only a case of rocky feelings, he is young after all and this is his first proper courtship. He’d rather not worry his parents with youthful misgivings.

While staring at his answering letter, which after an hour does not read more than ‘Dearest Chamomile’, his father knocks on his door and enters without waiting for an answer. Bilbo gives him an inquisitive look, quickly turning it into a concerned one, as Bungo silently sits down on the edge of Bilbo’s bed with a serious face.

“Your mother is under the impression that your affection for miss Brockhouse may have… cooled, a little.”

Bilbo frowns. “So she sent you to talk to me?” Bungo only raises his eyebrows in answer.

Bilbo fidgets with his sleeve, worrying at a thread that has come loose. “I’m sure it’s nothing, these things can’t stay steady forever, can they? And I’m only three-and-thirty. I haven’t even got as much experience as her, only a couple-” he quickly shuts up, colouring faintly. No need for a father to hear about his son’s unsatisfactory escapades.

The corner of Bungo’s mouth twitches slightly, but he does not laugh, which Bilbo appreciates. “Your feelings aren’t as strong as they were, then? But hers are?”

Bilbo lets loose a frustrated sigh. “She’s always so… so, so enthusiastic in her letters, always writing how she’s looking forward to seeing me again, and I do too, of course I do, but I don’t. Understand? How she seems to think of us as soulmates, practically, when I’m still stuck on the friendship part.”

And he feels _bad_ , is the thing. Chamomile is obviously infatuated, while his infatuation has yet to rear its head, and so he finds himself in a strange place of wanting to tell the one he’s courting about his inner turmoil, but not wanting to hurt her feelings. He keeps up a façade, in his writings to her, and he _feels bad_ because he wants this, should want this, but he doesn’t and he’s tricking sweet Chamomile into a lifetime of his uncertain feelings, and- 

Tears suddenly break their dam and track down his face, surprising him. He does not know how to articulate the intricacy of his noncomplex feelings to his father, resulting in it all tangling up into a ball of frustrating half-formed thoughts on his tongue, and distressed tears. It isn’t often he cries in front of his parents, outside of physical hurts, but when he does it is always somehow Bungo who coaxes it out. Which is why, Bilbo reasons in a practical part of his mind, Belladonna sent him instead of going herself – she clearly sensed this was something that needed more than a hug and a brisk walk in the woods.

Bungo is silent for a while, letting Bilbo stew in his tears and frustration. Bilbo does not really mind though; Bungo has always been one to think long on his words, when what he had to say was important. And judging by his expression, this was very important indeed.

“In my experience – which, mind you, is not limited to your mother, shocking that may be – in my experience, the younger and less you know of yourself, the more passionate your feelings are. First times are often more concentrated, in a way. And I have an inkling that the concentrated feelings you had for miss Brockhouse was not ones of budding infatuation, but rather those for your first true friend.”

Bilbo sniffs miserably. “But… I’ve had friends before Dad. I still do! So why…” The tears keeps falling, despite Bilbo furiously rubbing his eyes. 

“Oh, my dear sweet son.” Two strong arms enclose themselves around him, and he gratefully turns his head into his father’s jacket, holding on and letting himself cry his eyes out. Bungo pulls away from him then, takes his head in his hands and looks into his eyes. “There’s nothing for it, duckling. You do what is best for you, and break the courtship off, before miss Brockhouse is in too deep and you break both your hearts." 

“I never meant to-”

“I know, son. I know, and I’m sorry for any part your mother and I may have played in letting you believe you had to force feelings that were never there.”

Bilbo nods, and takes one last comfort in the dry kiss his father presses to his forehead. After Bungo has closed the door behind him and left Bilbo alone in his room, he takes a deep fortifying breath and starts writing.

He includes a pressed purple hyacinth and pink phlox, and hopes Chamomile will still talk to him after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gosh I hope this reads ok. I've no beta, absolutely feel free to point out mistakes or passages that just read weird.
> 
>  **FLOWERS:**  
>  CAMELLIA White - You're Adorable  
> FORSYTHIA - Anticipation  
> VIOLET White - Let's Take a Chance on Happiness  
> AMBROSIA - Your Love is Reciprocated  
> APRICOT BLOSSOM - Timid love  
> PINK LILAC - Acceptance, Youth  
> WOOD SORREL – Joy  
> PINK PHLOX - Hope of a new friendship  
> PURPLE HYACINTH - I'm sorry, Please forgive me, Sorrow
> 
> So basically Chamomile is saying “I think you’re adorable, I wish to court you, I anticipate your answer”. I decided wood sorrels are customary no matter what the answer is, to show no hard feelings and that you are flattered if you reject them. After a while I suppose it just became normal to include them in acceptance bouquets as well. Bilbo decides on apricot blossoms bc he knows himself and himself is not good with ~feelings~. I hope the rest are obvious! These are my interpretations anyway lol, I literally only googled "flower meanings" and went for what felt right. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading, please leave a comment! As mentioned all parts are planned out, I just need to actually write them.


	2. The Second: Fíli

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fíli is young (an adult, but young), picks some flowers, Bifur is a source of comfort, and the author has regretted her impulse decision of writing in present time (so it's changed).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (tags update as I add chapters, jsyk.)
> 
>  
> 
> how long did the company stay at Rivendell? who knows. someone probably does, but I sure as fuck didn't research it <:)
> 
> ages and what milestones are important to Dwarves are taken from [the Dwarrow Scholar!](https://dwarrowscholar.wordpress.com/2012/04/27/the-age-of-dwarves/) What a champ, I hope they know how important they are for Hobbit/LotR writers. it's one of those knowledge bits I didn't use much here but it's in the back of my head and definitely coloured the story.
> 
> I like this chapter a lot better than the previous one, which is a nice feeling. Enjoy!

“Bil- Master Baggins!”

Bilbo groaned at the sound of Fíli’s voice. He did not particularly mind the younger dwarves of the company – in fact he found that he enjoyed spending time around them more than the others, with the exception of Balin – but right then he had found a wonderfully peaceful bench in Rivendell, and was enjoying sampling elven tobacco (which was a little too mild for him, mostly, but he had found a sweet one which reminded him of Hobbiton in autumn). The dwarves were being dreadfully hostile and paranoid in the elves’ home, and Bilbo was determined to enjoy what little time he had here.

_Nothing for it now, though,_ he thought, turning towards the sound and smiling genially.

“There you are!” Fíli was grinning widely, waving a hand full of… Bilbo blinked. Ey was holding flowers, but it was the most curious collection of flowers Bilbo had ever seen.

“Ah. Hello, Fíli. Bilbo, please, I’ve told you before,” he distractedly replied, frowning at the flowers. “What have you got there?”

To Bilbo’s astonishment, Fíli flushed red. Ey looked down and fiddled with a petal, before thrusting the whole bouquet towards Bilbo. “For you. Ori suggested it, said he’d seen it when he was living in the Blue Mountains, whenever Dori went to the Hobbit market.”

Bilbo stared. He stared for so long, the hand holding the flowers was slowly sinking, Fíli obviously unsure if ey had overstepped some boundaries. Bilbo shook himself and grabbed the flowers, but could not muster anything other than a slack jawed expression. Fíli did not shuffle, ey was too much of Thorin’s kin for that, but ey did look anywhere but Bilbo’s face. Not that Bilbo noticed – he was too busy examining the flowers.

“I’ll – I’ll hear from you later then?”

Bilbo nodded, not really hearing em. Fíli nodded back, except ey went a little too far and it ended up looking like a sort of half bow. Embarrassed but elated that ey had actually given Bilbo the flowers, ey turned and ran back the way ey came. Bilbo distantly heard someone giggle and exclaim something – Kíli, he thought.

“Well, that is certainly something.”

Bilbo jumped. Gandalf stood in front of him, bemusedly looking the way Fíli had gone and presumably regrouped with Kíli. He turned towards Bilbo, raised his eyebrows at the bouquet, before letting out a rather unwizardly snort.

“Gandalf, do you-? Can you-? Will you look at this? This is a mess! What is he even _trying_ to tell me? Is that- is that a foxglove? With _pink heather_?” Bilbo looked incredulously up at the old wizard, who in turn looked like he might explode with mirth at any moment. Bilbo threw up his arms and took up his pipe again. The tobacco was burnt away, but he chewed on the stem nevertheless, continuing to study the bouquet. Gandalf sat down beside him, pulling out his own pipe.

They sat like that for a while, Bilbo happy for the silent company. Especially as he tried to decode the curious bunch Fíli had given him. _Pink heathers, spider flowers, foxglove, yellow chrysanthemum and_ , Bilbo squinted, _cinquefoils?_

“Either Fíli is insincerely wishing me good luck, telling me of how I’ve slighted em in love while simultaneously asking to elope with em, and also somehow claiming me as eir daughter,” he looked up at Gandalf with a tired look, “or ey has no clue how us Hobbits use flowers and just picked the first ones ey saw.”

Gandalf’s eye twinkled. “Thorin might look more kindly on you if you were his nephew’s child. There is some wisdom in that fool dwarfling’s head yet.”

Bilbo huffed. “Indeed. I rather think it’s the latter in this case, however.”

“Ah, alas.” Gandalf blew a smoke ring, which did something complex and fascinating, while Bilbo looked forlornly into the bowel of his own pipe.

“What will you answer em?”

“Sorry?”

“Fíli. I do not believe you are as dense as to think ey asked Ori what Hobbits might like as a gift purely to befriend you.”

“No. No I don’t. Hoped, perhaps, but.” Bilbo sighed. “Fíli is a sweet one, but why has ey set eir mind on me? Ey is Thorin’s heir! Ey cannot possibly believe that a middle aged gentlehobbit like me could ever be- be royal! Heavens, imagine.”

“Mmm.” Gandalf smoked some more, before rising. He leaned on his staff, and peered down on Bilbo. “You had better tell em soon, old friend. It does not do to let someone live on hope when you know yourself better.”

Bilbo did not answer, but he did nod, and tried to think of how he should reject someone once again.

“Least I won’t be breaking of anything this time around, I suppose. Better nip it in the bud.”

 

Which is what he told Fíli later, after dinner, while they were sitting on a bench a ways away from where the others has set up camp (despite Elrond offering them their own rooms – Bilbo shook his head at Dwarven foolishness, but fondly. He did like the intrinsic loyalty they had for each other).

Fíli looked confused, which is not what Bilbo was going for at all.

“Are you saying I’m a flower? Is that affectionate talk for Hobbits?”

“What? No, Fíli, I’m saying… I’m saying that, maybe, perhaps it would be prudent to, you know, to put aside this notion before it grows and, and you truly get hurt. By me. Which will happen.”

Fíli’s confusion cleared, only to be replaced by devastation.

“But, why? Isn’t that what courtship is about, get to know each other? Bilbo, I understand you might not have feelings for me now, but you never know! I can be very charming!” Bilbo winced, and wringed his hands.

“Look, Fíli, it’s not that I don’t- I’ve been down this road before, and, well-”

“It might be different this time!” Fíli covered Bilbo’s hands with eir own. “I really like you, Bilbo. You’re funny, and adorable, and honest, and you went along with Kíli and mines plan with the trolls and didn’t even tell Uncle, which would make me fall in love in and of itself-”

“Oh don’t say that, Fíli, you’re not in love with me-”

“-and I’m young, I can wait! This can be as long a courtship as you’d like-”

“How young?”

“-and we could, what, sorry, you asked. How young am I?”

“Yes. How young are you actually, Fíli? Gandalf called you a dwarfling.”

Fíli looked offended. “Not as young as that. Me ‘n Kíli may be the youngest, bar Ori, but I _am_ 82, old enough to come on this quest.”

Bilbo smiled sadly, and extracted his hands from Fíli’s. “I’m a middle-aged Hobbit, Fíli. Practically old, compared to you. You have many years yet to find someone to grow old with, and I suggest you at least wait until after you have a mountain to inherit.”

Fíli looked like ey wanted to argue, but before ey could find eir words Bilbo stood up.

“Thank you, for the flowers. Although you should really be careful with which you pick, next time you want to court a Hobbit.” With that, he gave a final nod and walked away from Fíli and the camp.

 

Bifur found him later. She was among the only ones who had regularly been friendly to Bilbo since the beginning – her and both her cousins. Bilbo appreciated it. He liked the Ur family: Bofur was easy to talk to, always had a laugh ready, and Bombur was a steady presence who quietly asked about the structure of Hobbit smials and talked about his own family. It took a while before he found his footing around their older cousin, but as soon as they found their way around the communication issue they were fast campfire companions. Bilbo was now an expert at interpreting Bifur’s various grunts and looks.

The look he was given now was one that conveyed ‘I saw a dejected Fíli looking lost after you abandoned em on a bench with a very subpar reason for rejecting eir courtship gift and thought I’d come here to the library to give you an earful (so-to-speak) about how you’ve broken the heir of Erebor’s heart’.

Or something to that effect.

He may have read too much into that look, Bilbo thought as Bifur just huffed, clapped his back and gave him a plate of tonight’s supper. Bilbo accepted it, but uncharacteristically only picked at the food.

Bifur gave an inquisitive sound.

“I don’t think I was. Entirely truthful. With Fíli. Perhaps.”

Bifur did not answer, silently motioning for him to continue.

“I mean, I wasn’t _lying_ , not really. I do think I’m too old for em. But I didn’t really, ah, know that? Before ey told me eir age?” He gave a possible lump of meat an experimental bite, before wrinkling his brows at Bifur. “82 years is young, yes? I was under the impression that Dwarves could reach at least 250.”

Bifur snorted and nodded. “Good. Good. But. Yes. It may have been an excuse.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s not as easy as that! I hardly know myself. But ey kept going on about developing feelings and falling in love and I’m flattered, I truly am, for Fíli to look at me and see something worthwhile courting, but at the same time I could feel my whole body just-!” Bilbo gesticulated with the hand that also held his spoon with a possible-lump-of-meat, resulting on it in flying towards a bookshelf. “Oh dear! Oh dear, well that is just fitting, isn’t it.”

Bilbo’s whole body deflated a little, and he put down the plate beside him on the bench. Suddenly a hand sneaked its way around his shoulders, and he found his head mushed into the hard shoulder of a Dwarf. Bifur started humming, no song that Bilbo recognized, but it was surprisingly calming. Bilbo closed his eyes and just enjoyed the comfort offered for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **FLOWERS:**  
>  Heather, Pink - Good luck  
> Spider Flower - Elope with me  
> Foxglove - Insincerity, Believed to keep evil away if grown in the garden  
> Chrysanthemum, Yellow - Slighted love  
> Cinquefoil - Beloved daughter, Meekness
> 
> Fíli is genderless in this! It's important to em, that ey is not a third gender or a little bit of all or fluid, but actually gender _less_. Pronouns found through [this wonderful article](https://www.tor.com/2014/06/03/post-binary-gender-in-sf-excitotech-and-non-binary-pronouns/), in the wikipedia article on Spivak pronouns (I use Elverson)
> 
> I've more gender notes, but thinking I'll put them up at the very end of this story.
> 
> hope you enjoyed this update! comments are always lovely (and I've no one to read over this, so if there's a glaring mistake/a section that reads weird/me just straight up misgendering Fíli, don't hesitate to say so!).


End file.
